


Suppressio Veri

by Kariki



Series: The Flash Prompt Fills [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Apologies, Blackmail, EoWells is basically a monster, Gen, I took a prompt that wasn't dark then angsted all over it, Lies, M/M, Manipulation, Molestation, Non-Consensual Touching, NonCon doesn't go beyond Bad Touch, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fic, reference to minor character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:11:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7680379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kariki/pseuds/Kariki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill fic!  </p><p>Hartley had every intention of telling the world what Harrison Wells was willing to do to get the Particle Accelerator up and running.  Harrison Wells had every intention of stopping him.  Cisco could only believe one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suppressio Veri

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so what happens is Cisco gets curious about why Hartley was fired since he was so good at what he did, and he may have been a douche, but he was a douche that was extremely intelligent. (Keep in mind that Harrison didn't tell them about the particle accelerator going off) so he visits Hartley and the two have a, well, heart-to-heart.
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry this prompt got a LOT darker than you were probably expecting. Oops.
> 
> (Suppressio Veri: The suppression of the truth )

Hartley stared at the blinking cursor on his laptop's screen, the word processor waiting for him to continue. In the five hours since he had gotten home from STAR Labs, he had only managed to write a few thousand words detailing just what was wrong with the Particle Accelerator and what Harrison Wells was trying to cover up.

The facts needed to be clear but also put in layman's terms so the reporters he intended to send this to would understand enough of it to know just what he was saying. He can go into full details once he got people's attention. When he had sat down to start writing, he had not expected how hard it would be to write everything out, to see the evidence stated so clearly for all to see. 

To see his failure staring back up at him.

He had done it again.

Despite everything he knew, despite everything he had learned, despite his walls, rationality, and realistic - sometimes cynical - worldview, he had done it again. He had trusted someone and they had not only let him down but had outright betrayed him. If Harrison Wells had put a literal knife in his back, Hartley was willing to bet it would have been far less painful.

He almost felt it would have been a kinder alternative to what really happened.

How had he missed who Wells really was? And for so long? Had Wells really been so flawless in those two years Hartley had know him? Had there really been no hint, clue, or indication of what kind of person Wells really had been? There must have been... no one was that good.

No, Hartley knew why he had been so completely and utterly fooled: He had wanted to be. He had wanted to believe someone so brilliant and amazing had trusted him, had admired him, had...

God, he was pathetic.

"Fuck," Hartley hissed, all but yanking his glasses off to run a hand over his eyes.

There had been a time he had thought himself in love with the older man. Now, with everything else that had become glaringly obvious, he was sure his affection had not gone unnoticed. Now, he was sure Wells not only knew about it but had used it against him, making him blind to so much that was going on. 

"Fuck," Hartley said again, shoving his glasses back in place while reaching for the half empty wine bottle sitting on the coffee table by his laptop. There was already an empty wine bottle set off to the side. He had finished that off an hour ago.

He'll have to venture out for more soon.

He took a deep drink from the bottle and almost dropped it in surprise. There was a brief moment of silence before another series of bangs rang from his front door. 

Hartley stared at the shaking door for a moment, at a loss. No one came to his apartment, certainly no one who'd have reason to physically assault his door. He looked back at the laptop and the blinking cursor. He should finish it before he got too drunk to write anymore.

"Hartley!" Hartley looked back to the door as whoever was on the other side yelled through the wood. "Open this damn door right now!"

Hartley frowned, trying to place the voice but it was too warped from passing through a door. He stood, swaying slightly as his legs took a second to remember how to work. He didn't need his landlord to have a reason to dislike him... he might have to rely on the man's charity until he found another job...

Hartley made it to the door just as another round of pounding began. He opened it and stared.

Cisco Ramon glared angrily at him, his mouth already open to start yelling again. Hartley blinked, frowned, then said: "No." He slammed the door shut before Cisco could say whatever it was he had come to say.

The last thing he needed was that immature brat being anywhere near him. Why would he even be here?

"Hartley, get your ass back here!"

Hartley ignored him. 

The pounding started up again, followed by yelling with each strike.

Fuck.

Hartley ripped the door back open. "What, Cisco? What could you possible want?"

"Where the hell do you get off -" Cisco started before trailing off to stare at him. Hartley could only guess what he looks like after his few hours of self pity and drinking. His hair and clothes must be in utter disarray, his eyes red from on and off crying, and alcohol on his breath.

He shouldn't have opened the door.

Cisco took a step forward, blocking the door with his foot when Hartley started to close it again.

"Hey," Cisco frowned, his voice soft and hesitant. Hartley would have thought him concerned if he was anyone other than Cisco. "Are... are you alright?"

Hartley glared at him. 

"What are you doing here, Cisco?" He hadn't known Cisco even knew his address.

"I came to... check on you." Cisco said after a moments hesitation. He was peering at him, studying him. It made Hartley want to slam the door in his face. He still might.

"Don't lie to me," Hartley scoffed.

"Fine," Cisco rolled his eyes, "I came to yell at you. After all the shit you put us through getting the Particle Accelerator built and only for you to end up quitting..."

"...Quitting," Hartley repeated, surprise overcoming any annoyance he felt. "He... said I quit?"

"Um, yeah..." Cisco frowned, shifting from foot to foot. "I, uh... you don't look like someone who just quit their job. I mean, you were an asshole but we all thought you liked it at STAR Labs..."

Hartley stared. He hadn't _liked_ it at STAR Labs. He had loved it. Being part of something doing actual good, using science to help people with technology and medicine... at least, that's what he had thought it was about.

God, Harrison had them all fooled, didn't he?

Hartley groaned and turned around, heading back into the sanctuary of his dark apartment, leaving the door open for Cisco. He heard Cisco step in, shutting the door behind him. Not caring that the other man's dark eyes were on him, he picked up the wine bottle and took a deep drink from it.

"So... didn't quit then," Cisco said, nodding to himself as he watched Hartley. "I... what happened?"

Hartley lowered the bottle, gasping softly to catch his breath, before looking at Cisco. Did anyone else at STAR Labs know? Did anyone else check on the safety of the Particle Accelerator? Run the numbers like he had? 

As far as he knew, no one else had been fired so suddenly. Certainly no one had come to him with their concerns. Did no one else care... or did they all blindly believe what they're told?

Hartley glanced down at the laptop, the words already written.

"...The Particle Accelerator isn't safe."

The words hung in the air for a moment, the weight of them thickening the air. Hartley looked back to Cisco, wanting to see if the other man believed him.

"I ran the numbers so many times. I... I even told Harrison about it weeks ago and he assured me he'd personally look into it. He never did." Hartley swallowed back the sudden dryness in his throat. "I checked again and again, so many times. I even went down into the pipeline, making sure I got everything right but..."

Hartley watched as Cisco processed his words. He could already see him trying to excuse his mentor, explain away his crimes, maybe even twist it so it was Hartley's fault, Hartley's mistake.

"I confronted him," Hartley turned to face Cisco properly, straightening his back to stand at his full height, as unimpressive as that height was. "He threatened to ruin my reputation, as though I ever gave a damn what people thought of me. Then he fired me."

"No, that..." Cisco shook his head, his brows furrowed. "That doesn't sound like Dr. Wells... something else must have been going on... or you misunderstood..."

Hartley scoffed at that, every ounce of disgust he felt pouring into the small sound.

"Yes, I'm sure I misheard him when he said he'll 'make sure the only job I'll ever get in physics is teaching it to high school juniors' if I said anything. It was obviously a suggestion, not a threat."

"But that... It just doesn't make sense!" Cisco said, shaking his head. "Dr. Wells isn't that kind of person! If the Particle Accelerator was a danger, he'd -"

"He'd what?" Hartley interrupted, clenching his fists to stop them from shaking.

"He'd... he'd stop it. Fix it! He wouldn't just let it happen!"

"You think I'm lying, Cisco?" Hartley asked, his voice cold and quiet.

"I don't know!" Cisco cried out, throwing up his arms. "Maybe!"

"When have I ever lied about _anything_?" Hartley all but hissed, taking a step closer to Cisco. 

"When has Wells?!"

Hartley could feel ice fill his chest, clenching at his heart and filling his lungs. Who would believe Hartley Rathaway, disgraced son and unkind jerk, when they could believe Harrison Wells, saint of Central City.

"Hartley," Cisco shook his head, his shoulder's slumping. "Look, maybe we can talk to him, find out what's really going on and -"

"Get out." The words were quiet but hard and firm. 

"I... What?"

"I said: 'Get out', Cisco." Hartley repeated the words, blinking back the heat forming behind his eyes. "Get out!"

"Hartley... hey!" 

Hartley didn't wait for him to finish. Scowling, he closed the distance between them and grabbed Cisco's upper arm, spinning him around to face the door again. He pulled him along, grabbing the doorknob.

"Get out," Hartley jerked open the door, intending to shove Cisco out of his home if need be. He didn't get that far.

Harrison Wells stared down at Hartley, surprise clear on his face as he slowly lowered the fist that had been hovering over door, ready to knock.

"Hartley," Harrison greeted, his tone even and cool. The blue eyes moved over to the man in Hartley's grip. "Cisco?"

"What are you..." Hartley rasped, his voice almost refusing to work. He swallowed and tried again. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to speak with you further," Harrison's eyes flickered back to Cisco. "I wasn't expecting to see you here, Cisco?"

"Uh, actually, this is perfect!" Cisco grinned, stepping out of Hartley's slackened grip and back into his apartment. "We can get this straightened out!"

Hartley numbly turned his gaze from Harrison back to Cisco. Cisco was looking at him with an odd mix of expectation and doubt.

"Hartley? May I come in?"

"No!" Hartley whipped his head back to glare up at Harrison. "You can stay the fuck away from me before I call the police."

Harrison sighed. "Hartley, please, don't be difficult..."

"Hartley, come on. Let him explain, I want to hear his side..."

"There is nothing to explain, Cisco," Hartley turned back to Cisco, scowling. "Now both of you get the hell away from me..."

Hartley heard the door shut and looked back behind him, finding Harrison standing in front of the now closed door. 

"I... think speaking about this would be a good idea," Harrison said, taking his glasses off to clean them on the hem of his shirt. When he looked up, it wasn't at Hartley but at Cisco. "What has he told you?" He asked, looking tired and forlorn and as though he already knew the answer. 

The ice in Hartley's stomach grew as he realized what was about to happen. There was nothing he could do except watch as the wolves closed in around him, backing him toward the cliff.

Cisco looked between the two of them for a moment and Hartley could see his dark eyes studying them both. Harrison's sad eyes and Hartley increasingly paling face. Cisco licked him lips before answering. "He... said the Particle Accelerator has a chance..."

Harrison held up a hand, stopping Cisco from saying more.

"I thought as much," Harrison sighed, dejected and remorseful. "Hartley had said that he would tell people that... I had hoped it was a bluff."

"You son of a bitch," Hartley muttered. Neither men acknowledge him.

"Hartley came to me earlier today and..." Harrison lowered his eyes and sighed once again. "He... propositioned me. When I turned him down, he said he would claim the Particle Accelerator would explode if turned on."

Hartley felt as though his insides had disintegrated, leaving him hollow. A few, hot tears escape his eyes but there was no point in trying to wipe them away. He didn't look at Cisco, he couldn't, but he watched every move Harrison made. Every twitch, every shift of muscle, it was all designed to manipulate and every manipulation was to destroy him.

"...So, it's not true?" He heard Cisco ask after a few moments. A part of Hartley wanted to feel relief at the hint of a doubt in Cisco's voice. Not that it would matter.

"Of course there is a possibility, there always is, but not to the certainty Hartley will claim." Harrison offered a small, sad smile at Cisco. "I'm sorry Hartley tried to mislead you."

No...

The word rang out through Hartley's entire being. He can't just stand there and let... and let...

Hartley turned to Cisco, grabbing the other man's shoulders, forcing him to face him. Cisco's eyes widened in shock but he didn't try and pull away.

"Cisco, please, he's _lying_ ," Hartley said, fingers digging into the t-shirt he had always hated, trying to stop the trembling in his fingers. "I would... I would _never_... I swear, it's not true... please..."

Cisco swiped Hartley's arms off of his shoulders, taking a step back. Hartley let his arms drop to his sides.

"God, I almost believed you," Cisco shook his head in disgust, a hand moving up to run through his hair. "You're a real dick, you know that, Hartley?"

Hartley could only stand there, frozen in place as Cisco walked past him, shaking his head. 

"I need to speak with Hartley," Hartley heard Harrison say softly behind him, "If you wait, I can give you a ride...?"

"No... No, I think I'd rather walk."

"I understand." There was a pause and the sound of the door opening. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this, Cisco."

"Yeah... yeah, me too."

Hartley heard the door shut and knew he was now alone with Harrison Wells. He fought down the urge to shudder.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, his voice sounding dead to his own ears.

"You didn't give me much choice." Harrison walked around him, casually looking around his apartment before his eyes settled on the laptop. "Though, I admit, I did not expect your go-to confidante to be Cisco."

"He came of his own accord." Hartley watched, numb, as Harrison's eyes scanned his email, taking in the evidence of his attempted whistleblowing. "I wasn't expecting him..."

"Really? What did he want?" Harrison asked, looking back to Hartley, seeming genuinely curious. 

Hartley shook his head, struck by how absurd this whole conversation had become... did deer have such casual conversations with the wolf preparing to rip out its throat?

"I don't know," Hartley admitted after a moment, his eyes dropping down to the laptop screen. He could see his writing still on the white background, the cursor still flashing as it waited for him to continue. "I'm still going to tell everyone what you've done. They... they can decide if your bullshit seduction story is true or..."

"I'm not going to tell that to the media," Harrison interrupted, a smirk tugging at his lips. "That was just to get Cisco out of the way. Half the staff already believed you fucked your way to head of your department. I wasn't planting any new ideas into his head."

Hartley had been well aware of those rumors. Lies made up by jealous coworkers who didn't understand why Hartley was favored over them. He had once believed it was because of his intelligence... now he knew it was because he was useful.

"I'm still going to report you."

"Go ahead." 

Hartley stared, his brow furrowing.

"I wouldn't advise it though." Harrison continued, reaching into an inside pocket of his coat and pulling out a single sheet of paper, folded three times as though he had meant to put it in an envelope. He held it out to Hartley. Hartley stared at the offered paper as though it were a snake. Harrison didn't retract it. 

Hartley reached out and pulled the paper from Harrison's hand, ignoring the older man's smile. He unfolded the paper and found only a brief, short list, written in Harrison's neat, tight handwriting.

Hartley felt his stomach churn as he read it.

"It took me a few hours to make sure I got them all," Harrison said over him. "I had to double check a few, just to be sure. I trust I found them all? There aren't many homeless shelters in Central City, I'm afraid. A shame really. Still, you managed to donate to all of them, though I see you favored those that catered specifically to gay youths... understandably."

Hartley couldn't stop the trembling in his hands, his arms, in his whole body. There was a nothing inside him, a deep void centered in his chest, consuming him. Hartley looked up at Harrison Wells, his face pale and bloodless.

"Did I miss any?" Harrison asked, clasping his hands behind his back. "Those are all the one I could find that list you as a regular donor. It'd be a shame if it were discovered that they might have been given stolen money or worse, found to be a front for money laundering."

"You... they would find out that's not true..." Hartley looked up, his voice catching. "They would investigate..."

"Yes, they would," Harrison agreed, stopping Hartley's protests. "It would take months, however, and they very well can't let a potentially criminal business operation to continue." 

"...This is what you'll do?" Hartley asked softly, crumpling up the paper in his hands. "If I reveal the what I know about the Particle Accelerator?" Hartley shook his head, swallowing hard. "If it explodes, people will die, Harrison. Don't you understand that?"

" _If_ it explodes," Harrison corrected, studying Hartley. "If it explodes, people _may_ die. How many will die if most of the homeless shelters close down? In December? In Missouri?"

How will Hartley let people die? A potential death due to possible explosion or a certain death from exposure?

"I was thinking of starting with Central Youth Center." Harrison smiled. "You have a personal history with that one, if I remember correctly?"

Hartley blinked back a new wave of tears. Harrison smiled and reached down to the laptop on the coffee table beside him and turned the machine around to face Hartley.

The cursor blinked steadily.

Hartley took a step forward, his body slow and numb, reluctant to follow its owners commands. He dropped the paper with the list of shelters on the table and leaned down over the laptop. It only took a few keystrokes to make the words vanish from the screen and the word processor closed. 

Hartley stood back up, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"I knew you'd see things my way," Harrison said and Hartley didn't have to look at him to know how utterly pleased the man was. "You always had such a bleeding heart, Hartley. It's a shame you never let anyone see it."

"Get out," Hartley ordered, his voice rough and shaking. 

Hartley heard the other man chuckle.

"In due time." Harrison said and Hartley tore his eyes away from the laptop to meet Harrison's gaze. "I'm curious about something. If you'll indulge me."

"Go to hell." Hartley said, his voice lacking the venom he knew he should feel. A tiredness had seeped into his very bones, utter defeat weighing him down.

Harrison's smile widened. His light eyes drifted down to the abandoned sheet of paper on the table. The threat was clear.

Hartley swallowed hard.

"...What is it?"

"You've been attracted to me since I first hired you," Harrison said, stating it as a well-known fact. "I didn't dissuade you because I found it useful but now I can't help but wonder..." He took a few steps forward until he was less than few feet away from Hartley. "If I had encouraged your infatuation, how far would you have let me go? What would you have let me do to you?"

Hartley stumbled back a few steps, disgust and shame urging through him at Harrison's words. "Fuck you!" He hissed, scowling up at the taller man.

"Perhaps," Harrison stayed where he was, his smile now a grin. "If you were under my control enough."

"Get the fuck away from -"

"Get on your knees," Harrison interrupted him, unaffected by Hartley's anger.

Hartley stared. His stomach churned in revolt, making him sick. Just a few days ago... just a few _hours_ ago...

"No..."

"Hartley," Harrison sighed, as though talking to a disobedient child, "Don't be difficult. On your knees."

Hartley tore his eyes away from Harrison and stared at the crumpled paper on the coffee table, to the laptop that only showed the desktop now. This was a game Harrison had already won, everything else was purely to rub it in. He had already lost, to refuse to play anymore would only make his loss pointless.

Hartley, his vision starting to blur with tears, slowly sank down to his knees. He repeated the list in his head, letting it become a mantra, something to hold onto even as Harrison moved forward to stand directly in front of him.

Hartley didn't flinch as Harrison touched his hair but it was a close thing. 

"Look up at me, Hartley," Harrison ordered, his voice low and soft, as though he were talking to a skittish animal. 

Hartley dragged his gaze upward to meet the cold eyes of his former mentor.

Harrison's fingers moved from Hartley's hair, trailing down his cheek to his chin, forcing his head back further. His thumb moved in small circles against his cheek, rubbing in the tears that lingered there.

"Open your mouth," Harrison ordered.

Hartley obeyed, parting his lips slowly. Harrison's thumb moved, catching a tear as it slid down Hartley's cheek before moving over to Hartley's bottom lip, wetting it with the tear. Hartley winced as the digit was suddenly forced into his mouth. Hartley could taste salt, sweat, and metal as the thumb was pressed against his tongue, forcing him to open his mouth further.

Harrison stared down at him, studying him. Hartley closed his eyes and waited. If Harrison really went further... could he...? He'd have to. Hartley dug his fingers into his thighs, trying to fight back the trembling in his hands.

"Oh, Hartley," Harrison sighed. Hartley opened his eyes to see Harrison shaking his head. "I could have had such fun with you... You would have let me do anything to you."

Harrison pulled his hand away and lightly slapped Hartley's cheek.

"Such a shame..." Harrison stepped away and walked around Hartley. "I trust I have your silence now?"

Hartley closed his mouth but continued to stare at the space Harrison had stood a moment before. He didn't think he could move, even if he wanted to, not with Harrison still there, lurking somewhere behind him.

"Goodbye, Hartley," Hartley heard the door behind him open. "Let us never meet again, hmm? For your sake."

The door closed.

For a few moments, Hartley knelt on the floor, too shocked and numb to move. Finally, he slowly turned to see the door was closed and Harrison was, in fact, gone.

"Fuck... oh, fuck," Hartley gasped, falling backward to sit on the floor, his hands coming up to cover his face. He pulled his knees up tight against him and tried to stop is body from shaking apart at the seams.

* * *

Hartley stood in the dark chamber, his arms wrapped around himself, and stared at the containment field in the center of the room. More specifically, he was staring at the pool of blood in the middle of the large machine. 

Harrison - or whoever he was - had played them once again and now another person was dead.

Hannibal Bates might not have been a good person but he didn't deserve to die, not to protect Harrison Wells.

If Hartley hadn't 'escaped' the previous week, would he be lying dead in the Pipeline now? Would Wells have even bothered? If Team Flash hadn't gotten him out, would Wells have killed him to silence one more loose end or would he have done it out of spite? Would he have done it at all?

For the last two months, ever since his planned capture and his not-so-planned captivity, it felt like he had been walking a very thin line. After saving them from that Lovecraftian abomination, Cisco and Caitlin had stuck by him, pulling the Flash onto their side. They asked for his help, his advice, they even let him out of the Pipeline to help... all the while, Wells had loomed, his very presence a threat that only Hartley could see.

Hartley had never been so relieved than the day the Flash, Barry, had come to his cell and said: "I believe you".

They had protected him, refused to leave him alone in STAR Labs with only Wells there, and finally, they had faked his escape and took him where he would be safe.

Like there was anywhere in the world that was safe from a man that can lap the planet in less than a minute.

How much time did they have left until he came after them? Wells needed the Flash but the rest of them...

The sound of footsteps broke into Hartley's thoughts. Too slow to be the Flash or the Reverse Flash, the sound too soft to be anything other than the soft tread of rubber soles, that left only...

"Cisco," Hartley greeted, not bothering to turn around to see if he was right.

"I thought you might be in here," Cisco walked over to stand beside him. Most of Team Flash were used to Hartley identifying them by sound before they even entered a room. "I wanted to see if you were okay..."

"I'm fine," Hartley answered though his voice sounded dull and unconvincing, even to his own ears. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Not very convincing," Cisco stated, looking up at the containment field as well, his eyes briefly focusing on the blood.

Hartley pulled the black jacket he was wearing closer around him, wishing it was the hoodie from his Pied Piper costume and not a zip up sweatshirt he had borrowed from Detective West. God, he missed having his own clothes but there was no way he was going back to his hide out with Wells on the loose.

"Oh, uh," Cisco reached into his pocket, turning to him. Hartley barely catching the small plastic case that was tossed in his direction. "I thought that you'd rather have those on hand..."

Hartley stared at the small case in his hands in open surprise. He glanced at Cisco for a moment, searching for any sign of foul play but there was only a small, hopeful smile.

"I mean, they were the only weapons you had on you besides the gloves," Cisco continued, shrugging a shoulder. "And they're not the ones you came in with because, wow, you had to put those together with scraps and yeah... I thought maybe building new ones with proper parts would be... yeah."

Hartley looked back at the case in hand and opened it to see the new(?) hearing aids for himself. Having proper parts had certainly done them justice. They looked better than what he had been able to pull off in his living room with parts from Radio Shack and medical supplies he had had to order off the internet.

"E-bombs all intact, as well as the other surprises you had in them," Cisco finished up, shifting from foot to foot as he waited. "Is... Is that alright? I-I mean, you have access to the labs now, you can make your own if you'd rather..."

"No, it's fine." Hartley pulled one out to inspect it. "Well, I'll still use the labs to make more, of course, but not because you made these."

There were other things he'd like to implement into the design now that he had the means but he still felt... grateful? Grateful seemed the right word.

"Thank you, Cisco."

"No problem," Cisco grinned. "We can't leave our Pied Piper defenseless..."

"If there's one thing I'm not, it's defenseless," Hartley smiled back, looking at the case in his hand. "Usually, anyway."

"Yeah," Cisco's smile faded. "Hartley, there's something I've been meaning to... ask? Say. Definitely say, I think."

Hartley looked up, waiting. Cisco seemed to be warring with himself. He opened his mouth a few times, thought better of it, and went back to thinking of whatever it was he wanted to say. "Cisco?"

"Harrison lied about you, didn't he?" Cisco finally blurted out, wincing as soon as the words left his mouth. "I mean, of course he lied about you. H-He lied about the Particle Accelerator, he downplayed why he fired you, he never brought up the reason he had... had told me."

"About me trying to seduce him?" Hartley filled in for him, feeling his own throat tighten unpleasantly at the memory. "No, that wasn't true." He finished dryly, his hand clutching at the hearing aid case tightly.

"I... I _know_ it wasn't. Now, I know it wasn't and..." Cisco licked his lips, dropping his eyes down to the floor. "I just... I'm _sorry_ , Hartley. That I believed him back then. I'm just... I'm so sorry."

Hartley stared, his heart hammering in his chest. That was... not something he ever expected to hear. It was something he didn't know he wanted to hear. "Cisco..."

"And I left you with him!" Cisco continued, shaking his head. "He had no reason to be there in your apartment but I didn't even question it. It's just been running in my head ever since we found out Wells was... not Wells."

"Cisco..."

"And I just keep thinking that... that you're such a stubborn ass but you were _right_ and yet you didn't say anything except to me but Wells had..." Cisco stopped and looked up at Hartley, his eyes wet. "What happened after I left, Hartley? H-He had to have done something to... you wouldn't have stayed quiet..."

Hartley stared for a moment before dropping his gaze back to the case in his hands, then over to the containment field and the blood, before looking back at Cisco.

"He... didn't hurt me... exactly," he started slowly, his turn to now consider his words. He didn't want to tell Cisco what had happened, not all of it anyway. "He... he knew I donated to charities around the city. Homeless shelters mostly. He said he'd report them for money laundering if I said anything. Some of them could have recovered from that but some wouldn't and... and they _all_ would have been closed down for months... It was winter, Cisco... All I could do was keep quiet and hope I was wrong."

Cisco looked as sick as Hartley had felt back then and still felt now. It was oddly comforting.

"Was that all?" Cisco asked, his voice small and cracking. Hartley felt his gut twist at the sound of it. "He didn't... he didn't..."

"He didn't hurt me," Hartley repeated, his voice just as soft. "He just threatened me..."

"He didn't try anything?" Cisco asked quickly, averting his eyes. "I was just... I kept thinking of the lie he told me. He didn't have to make it... make it sexual... I just..."

Hartley froze, a wave of cold run through him. _He molested me... he touched me... he assaulted me..._ All of that was true... he wasn't going to tell Cisco any of it. If Cisco looked at him with anything close to pity over it, Hartley didn't think he'd be able to handle it. He had known what he was doing, even under duress, and what the stakes had been... 

"No," Hartley's voice cracked over the lie. He tried again. "No. It wasn't... it wasn't anything."

Hartley jumped as Cisco suddenly closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Hartley's shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry," Cisco said, pressing his face into Hartley's shoulder. Cisco didn't believe him but he wasn't calling him out on it. Hartley didn't know if he was relieved by that or not. Instead, Hartley slowly brought his arms around Cisco, ignoring the trembling that was starting in them. "I should have believed you, should have listened. A year ago and a few months ago... I'm just so sorry."

"It's not your fault..." Hartley said softly, his own forehead coming down to rest on Cisco's shoulder. He didn't want to see the chamber around them, the place where they had failed to put a stop to the man that had done this to them.

"It's not yours either," Cisco said, his voice firm, despite the tears Hartley could feel sinking into his clothes. "We'll fix this. Make it so he can't do this to anyone else."

"Yeah," Hartley smiled, blinking back his own tears. "We will."


End file.
